ReaderXAmerica: It's Revolutionary!
by Dezie
Summary: You have been discovered that you've been a girl the whole entire time that you've been in the army. It looks like the army will be nothing for you anymore except medicine... until you meet a man named Alfred... CountryXReader.
1. Chapter 1

AmericaXReader  
>It's Revolutionary!<br>A Story Written by Dezie

Part 1

Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia or you... Mother Russia does

*smushsmushsmushsmush*

Your boots trudged through the heavy, muddy, forest floor.

God you hated the rain.

Dressed in your blue uniform, you were looking around for some more dead or wounded Redcoats. After the General had discovered that you were a girl, you were treated WAY differently. No one ever went out with you when you looked for enemies. All the General handed you was a rifle. You didn't know what kind it was, you were never an expert on guns.

On this hunt you had found one Redcoat, a dying boy who you sat with until he breathed his last breath. Your tears had dripped onto his cold face, and you couldn't stand it. That was the way that the General found out that you were a girl when your childhood best guy friend had been shot. Your wail was way too high pitched and immediately the whole entire American army, and a few of the British, knew that you weren't a boy. At that very moment you didn't care. You didn't even care when one of the biggest army-men had grabbed you buy the shoulders and lifted you up, carrying you away. You fought back, tears streaming down your cheeks and you could feel your face get puffy and red. If your friend was with you, he would call you a tomato. (no reference to Spain or Romano)

And then you would've socked him.

The thought of your friend distracted you from the present, and it wasn't until you heard the moaning of a man you were brought back to your senses.

You looked around wildly, tensing up. Your eyes widen and you reach for your gun, holding it in front of you as you stalk through the forest. You keep looking behind you until you notice a Redcoat up ahead lying down on his stomach. Slowing your pace, you slowly roll your foot from heel to toe, trying to make as little noise as possible. You draw closer and closer to the Redcoat, close enough to realize that this man is no longer breathing. This man is dead. And you are alone.

That is until you notice the man staring at you, his back against a tree.

You whip around and point the gun at his face before you realize the color of his coat. He was wearing a navy blue coat, same as you were.

He seems to be as surprised as you.

'Have you lost your mind?" He yelps, throwing his hands up in the air, before groaning again, clutching his arm against his stomach. Your eyes soften and you slowly begin to kneel down beside him, touching his shoulder lightly.

"What's wrong?" You ask him, coaxing him to move his arm so that you can see his stomach.

"The Redcoat over there tried to shoot me, but I took him down before he could have the chance." He explained, glancing back over at the dead man.

"You were very lucky," you murmur, stripping off his jacket, taking a look at his bullet wound through his light, long-sleeved white shirt. It was bleeding, and it looked as if one of his ribs was cracked. You were never a nurse, always a fighter. You would have to take him back to the Medical Tent.

"Thanks," he smiles, looking down at his wound for the first time. "Dangit," He muttered, cocking his head to the side to get a better look.

You place your hand on top of his rib, "does that hurt?"

He shakes his head, "nope."

"How about this?" You ask, putting your hand underneath the bloody scab.

The man slightly winced, "only a bit."

"Okay," you confirm, "Your ribs aren't broken. Be thankful for that." With a breath of relief he leans his head back against the tree. This was when you notice this boys hair color. Sandy... not to dark and not to light. And his eyes! They were so blue! You almost had to do a double take when you first made eye-contact with him.

You pat his knee and motion for him to try to stand up. You take his hand in yours and you slowly help him get to his feet. Once he was a little off the ground, he winced and fell against you, his face only inches from yours. He gives you an apologetic look and you glance away momentarily before returning his gaze.

"I hope this is alright," he says almost teasingly; despite his wound, he had a twinkle in his eye.

You roll your eyes and turn away, helping his back into his coat. As soon as it is buttoned back in then you take his wrist in your hand and put it around your shoulders, supporting his weight. You had done this multiple times on the Battlefield before; you were always more cut out to be out on the Front-line than back in the Medicine Tent.

As both your boots trudge through the forest, the boy's more dragging, you suddenly hear him pipe up.

"What's your favorite color?"

You stop for a second to glance at the boy's face, which was still just inches from your face.

"Excuse me?" You ask.

"Your favorite color," The boy presses, leaning closer to you.

You ponder over the thought for a few short seconds before you come to a conclusion.

"_," You mutter thoughtfully, "_ is my favorite color."

The boy seemed to relax at that. "My favorite color is red," He says almost dreamily although you didn't ask.

"How ironic," You say smiling.

The boy nods, and motions for you with his free hand to keep trudging along. You do the very thing.

As you walk on, the boy keeps asking you really strange questions. They wouldn't be considered strange back home of course, but you weren't home. You were on the Battlefield. Your heavy boots are making you tired, as well as the weight of the boy leaning on you. He shut up for a while, before he piped up, "I started it."

You stop walking and turn back to look into his deep blue eyes, "huh?"

"I started the fight with the Redcoat," the boy says nonchalantly, "I just thought you would want to know."

You raise your eyebrows at him, before you begin walking again. "We all have to make sacrifices for our country," you finally say.

"Yup," the boy chuckles, before asking another question. "Do you love America?"

You stop walking. "If all you want to do is talk, try holding it in until we see the American base. That way I won't have to keep stopping."

He smiles as you, "how about you just put me down? We can take some time and relax."

Relax... you haven't heard that word for a long long long time.

"This is war, kid," You say, "I wouldn't recommend taking it easy out here."

"Come on," He pleads, "just for a minute or two! I can definitively see the dark circles under your eyes, and theyre not really complementary to your skin tone and iris color! Plus were in American territory after all."

You stare at him.

Then with a deep sigh you nod and walk over towards a tall oak tree. You gently set his back against the tree, unwrapping his arm from around your shoulders and giving it back to the boy.

As soon as you were both settled down, the boy repeated his question, "Do you love America?"

"Why do you think I'm here?" You ask.

He smiles and shrugs, "oh I was just wondering. I've actually heard some rumors that America is actually a person, and he's fighting alongside us to win his independence from England."

You choke back your laughter, "and let me guess, England is a country too?"

The boy smiles a wide smile and nods excitedly, "yeah!"

You blink at him, apparently he doesn't understand sarcasm.

Things got awfully quiet after that, before the boy whispers, "Alfred."

"Huh?"

The boy extends his arm out towards you, "Alfred F. Jones."

"That's your name is it?" You ask.

Alfred nods with a huge grin on his face, "and you are...?"

You ponder over that fact... people had called you by your fake male name for such a long time... no one in the American Army really even knew, or cared, what your REAL name was. But, this kid seems nice enough. It was actually quite pleasant to have someone to talk to for once.

"_" You say your full name. First, middle, and last.

"I like it," Alfred concludes, "Is it Italian?"

You laugh, "how should I know?"

The boy shrugs, then glances around him, "i think we better start heading back to the Base."

You nod and stand up, extending your hand. When his skin touches yours, you think you feel a little spark of electricity shoot up from your hand, up your arm and into your spine. This traveled up throughout your body, until it reaches your eyes that are staring deep into Alfred F. Jones' sea blue orbs.**  
><strong>


	2. Chapter 2

AmericaXReader  
>It's Revolutionary!<br>A Story Written by Dezie

Part 2

Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia or you... Mother Russia does

Soon enough you and the wounded Alfred make it back to the American Base. As you both came in through the brush, every single one of the American Soldiers turned to stare at you. You were embarrassed enough that you had been shunned away, it didn't help when everyone was staring straight at you.

Or were they staring at the person you were carrying...?

You slowly took a peek at Alfred, and you saw that he had his head held up high, and he looked extremely more authorized than he did when you found him. How could he change his attitude so quickly...? And why was everybody staring at him...?

Trying to ignore all the burning pairs of eyes you quickly cross the enclosed field towards the Medicine Tent. You duck underneath the cloth opening and help Alfred in as well. You help him limp over towards the closest cot and you gently place him down, giving him his arm back and instructing him to lay down.

You turn away and start across the tent towards the the Medicine cabinet that had been locked shut. And only you wore the key around your neck on a leather string. These medicines were mandatory, and without them there was no way that the American Army could survive.

As you untie the string around your neck and stick the key into the padlock, you hear the cloth entrance rustle. Turning around to see who had arrived, you see that it was no other than the Major General. The very man that pulled you out of the war and stuck you back here at Base. You quickly whipped back around, removing the padlock from the cabinet. You tilted your head slightly and began to listen to what the General had to say to the boy.

"Jones," you heard the General say in greeting, "what happened?"

"There was a Redcoat on the American side," Alfred replied smoothly, "I didn't want to take care of him the way I did. But I had no choice."

"You always do what's best," General said thoughtfully. You turned your attention back to the Medicine as you heard them fall silent. You pulled out a cloth, that you would have to boil, and some bandages.

You turn around to face the two men and you nod to them, then look towards the General. "Can you go get me a small pot that I can boil this rag in?"

Muttering something inaudible, the General turned and walked out of the tent. You could definitely he was reculant about going through with a woman's request.

You roll your eyes and look towards Alfred who was staring at you with interest.

"What do you want?" You asked, attempting to stop the blush that was coming onto your face.

"Nuthin," Alfred said, grinning widely. You could no longer see the authoritative man anymore, now you could only see a silly and sunny smile on the face of an innocent looking man

It was really starting to bother you how quickly he could change his personalities.

You tried to brush the thought off your shoulder as you go and kneel down by his cot, pulling back a small cloth that covered up a small, almost pathetic, circle of rocks and burnt wood. The "fireplace" that kept the resting soldiers warm during the night. You would boil the water in there.

You settle down on with crossed legs, the top of the cot was at your shoulder height so you could easily see Alfred and his expressions. And right now he was looking at you with confusion in his eyes.

"I have to wait for the General to come back with the water before we can dress your wound," You explain. Deciding to take off his coat so that you wouldn't have to wait very long, you stand up and motion for him to sit up although you know it will hurt. Gently you help him up and then take it off of him, one arm at a time. Until once again he is in his long-sleeved lightweight shirt. The blood had stained his shirt towards the lower left of his torso, and you coax him to unbutton a few buttons so that you can take a good look at it.

Its when the scary realization crashes on you that the bullet is still inside him. Your stomach suddenly feels heavy and you start to feel nauseous. You would have to fish it out of him. The thought freaks you out and you really wish that you hadn't taken a look at his wound. You were worried enough about the man, although it seemed that he wasn't in too much pain by the way he had that stupid grin on his face. But about his inside exterior and his over-all health, you were worried sick.

You nod to him and tell him to lay back down, and you sit down next to the "fireplace" to begin a fire. You take out your flint and with a few quick swipes and a flash of sparks, then the dead grass and burnt wood started up in small flames. You begin to focus in on the flames, and in your thought. You were very well aware that Alfred was looking at your face. When wasn't he?

"What's your favorite animal?"

Not this again.

You glance up at him, clearly defeated. He can read your expression and he got a smug look on his face, "you said when we get back to the Base."

With a huff, you turn towards him, your legs still crossed, and you answer with, "_."

He smiles and nods at you. "I like Bald Eagles," He decides, "they're super cool!"

You roll your eyes at Alfred, and glance down at the fire again. You then hear the sound of somebody clearing their throat and you glance up at the General. You see that he's holding a small pot, that would be perfect size, that was filled with water. You quickly stand up and take it from him, murmuring your thanks. You go to sit back down, and you put the pot inside the flames. It would be boiling soon.

It's then when you realize that both men are staring intently at you. You really had enough of the staring.

"I can't believe we missed those!"

Alfred's exasperated voice made you look up and realize that he's pointing at your chest.

You puff out your cheeks angrily and you feel your face turn bright red.

"_, You look like a tomato!" Alfred screamed, dying of laughter. It made you even more embarrassed when the General joined in at laughing at your boobs and your face.

You really wanted to hit Alfred right now. Maybe kick him in the crotch.

But either way, you would get into even more trouble than you already were.

"Hahahah," You mutter sarcastically, putting the cloth inside the now decently hot water.

"You take good care of Alfred, _," You hear the General say before you hear the sound of swishing cloth, indicating that he had left the Medicine Tent

You mutter something to yourself and you look up at Alfred who is staring at your face.

"WHAT?" You ask almost too angrily.

"Will you hold my hand?"

You raised your eyebrows.

"Excuse me?" You ask the man as if you hadn't heard him right, which is exactly what you did.

"My fingers are getting cold," He explained, slipping his strong hand into yours before you could say anything. But he was right. His hand did feel cold. Not unusually cold... but still enough to make you flinch.

As you sit next to the man, his hand in yours. He was surprisingly silent and after awhile you begin to worry. But as you stretch your neck you realize that he is sleeping. With a small smile, you release his hand from yours and stand up. The water is boiling, and you are going to wake Alfred up soon to dress his wound before you realize that his coat is crumbled up unevenly next to the cot. You reach down and pick it up and begin to fold it before you feel that there is something stuffed inside the front pocket.

Not meaning so snoop, you reach inside and pull whatever it was out. You immediately feel the cool ribbon on your hand before you see it. The color is light blue. And reality hits.

Alfred is the Commander-in-Chief!


	3. Chapter 3

AmericaXReader  
>It's Revolutionary!<br>A Story Written by Dezie

Part 3

Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia or you... Mother Russia does

It was awhile before Alfred had stirred from his deep slumber. The water and cloth had been boiling for more than a few hours, so you knew for a fact that the water and rag would be safe to clean his wound with. You were still frightened about taking the bullet out of his body... you would have to do it soon.

As his blue eyes fluttered open, they looked to you as soon as his pupils had refocused. You were crouched down by the fire with your hand close to he pot, your eyes level with his as he was laying on the cot.

"Hi," He said smiling, reaching his arms out in front of him and arching his back in a stretch. But, as you guessed, he fell back in pain because of his wound.

"I thought you had fixed that," he grumbled.

"Actually I was waiting for you to get back up," you answer, a small grin beginning to form across your mouth. But then you remember that this is your Commander-in-Chief! The very head of the army! You stop the smile before it goes to far.

Respect.

'Respect all ranks higher than your own,' the General had said that first day on the line. You weren't one to fall back on orders.

You turn back to the boiling water, seeing out of the corner of your [e/c] eye that a confused face fell upon Alfred.. er, Commander.

"What day is it?" He asks.

"Oh, I haven't really been keeping track," you say uneasily, "but I think its September 2nd."

An awkward silence falls into the tent as Alfred begins to think.

In a horrible attempt, you try to break it.

"You still have the bullet in you," You chirp, "I'll fetch it out as soon as your ready for it to be out."

Alfred turns towards you again and a smile forms on his mouth, "I've been ready."

You nod at him, and then take out the hot washcloth. The air surrounding suddenly feels colder than it was before from the hot water your hand was just in.

You take in a deep breath and then tell him to unbutton his shirt.

You had panicked

Then the blood suddenly began to flow from his wound, you had panicked. The sanitized washcloth was soon drenched in a sticky, red liquid, and it dripped onto your hands.

He had lost consciousness and the stick that he had been biting onto fell from his mouth onto the cot. You freaked out and quickly pressed your hand against the wound. Tears formed at your eyes.

"Not now, Alfred. This isn't good!" You glance up at his face and then quickly back down at the fist that you held the shell in. You got the bullet out. Now you just needed to yank Alfred from unconsciousness.

You had quickly grabbed the rest of the water, that was now lukewarm, and poured it over Alfred's wound, flushing some of the blood away. Then, like a boss, you quickly propped him up, putting his shoulders against your knees and you bandaged all around his torso where the wound was.

With a deep breath, you watch some blood stain the cloth. But none trickles down his stomach.

Taking in a shudder, you slowly put a shaking hand against his left breast, feeling a steady 'galump, galump, galump.'

Blowing out a sigh of relief you remove your knee and gently place Alfred back against the pillow where he was before. You look around you and find that your white pants are stained with the Alfred's blood, and so are the covers that Alfred now lays on.

You take a few moments to let your breath return to normal, before your eyes are drawn to the entrance of the medical tent. Curiously, you stand up and walk over towards it, ducking out underneath the cloth before looking back at Alfred. With a small small, you turn back and peer out towards the horizon.

Dawn.

The sun is rising. The cool forest air blows around you and you take in a deep breath of it. Then you walk back in towards the one occupied cot in the tent.

You sit on the edge of it, watching Alfred sleep. Have you saved the American Army by saving his life...?

You close your eyes and push the thought away. It was no time to be boasting your ego.  
>Before the time that you had taken out Alfred's bullet, the General had come to talk to you.<p>

Alfred would be out in battle today.


	4. Chapter 4

AmericaXReader  
>It's Revolutionary!<br>A Story Written by Dezie

Part 4

Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia or you... Mother Russia does

You didn't leave Alfred's side until he was woken up from his deep unconsciousness, and already by that time you could hear soldiers outside the tent preparing for the battle ahead. There was tension growing inside your chest and gnawing at your chest.

You were so deep in thought as you were sitting on the cot next to Alfred, you didn't realize that the man had woken and he had reached his hand up to lightly touch your face.

His icy fingers snapped you out of your daze and you quickly looked at him, then at his hand which was only centimeters from your cheek.

You reach up with your very own hand and, hesitantly, intertwine your fingers with his and bring both hands into your lap.

Alfred sighs, almost happily, and looks straight into your eyes. You feel yourself blush, and you can't help but to look away.

He chuckles lightly and then sits up. He winces only slightly, so you can tell that he's sore.

"Hey are you okay?" you ask worriedly.

With a smile and a nod, Alfred glances up at you.

"It just stings a bit," he reassures you.

It's then you see how cold and yet WARM his hands were.

Still holding his in yours, then you press the back of his hand against your cheek in amazement.

A lighthearted laugh shakes the cot and you glance up back into his blue eyes.

You had taken affection towards Alfred, the way his eyes glittered and the way that he always seemed to be smiling, except when he was playing Commander-in-Cheif.

You still couldn't believe that this man was head of the army. He didn't tell you himself that he was the commander... Did he want you to know?

And most importantly, why did he make you the Medicine person? Before you were 'drafted' then you had heard of lady nurses in the army. And you had always thought that the General was in-charge of the nurses, soldiers, etc. but after some serious thinking then you had decided that the Commander was the one who took charge of that.

"_?"

You look back at Alfred, "yea?"

"Do you love America?"

"...yes," you reply with a smile, remembering that past night "Why do you think I'm here?"

"_, can I tell you something?"

The sudden seriousness in Alfred's blue eyes chilled your bone, but you still held onto his hand. And sometime while you were thinking then his second hand had joined his first, hugging your hand in two warm palms.

"Of course," you answer, wondering what he could possibly want you to know.

"Okay..." you heard him mutter to himself. Whatever he was going to tell you must've been really bugging him. It was really hard for him to get out the first part.

"I...am..."

You raised your eyebrows. Was he going to tell you that he was the Commander after-all?

"I'm sorry,_, but I can't take the pain anymore..."

You were kind of worried. 'Pain?' did you do something wrong? Did you hurt him instead of helping when you took out that bullet?

"Alfred? What pain are you feeling?" You ask.

"The pain of my people," Alfred answers, "and the heartache of knowing that they are dying for me."

"Because you're the Commander-in-Cheif," you say... Thinking you understand.

"Not at all," Alfred murmurs. "_, as you are standing on my land, on my heart, men are spilling blood onto  
>me. The pain is far worse than any bullet wound I have ever received."<p>

"Alfred..."

"I AM America,_. The one whom your friend died for. For my freedom."

You are stumbling for words, "but your freedom means our freedom."

His blue eyes are glittering, "that may be true... But who is out dying? I'm not dead, _. I'm going out into battle today to make things right for once."

"Alfred," you whisper, "don't kill yourself. You've seen what it's like out on the Frontline! I don't want you going out there alone."

"I won't," he reassures with a smile, "but you need to stay back here in the medicine tent. I don't want you to be killed."

You feel a surge of warmth go through your body before he continues with, "there may be wounded soldiers who will need your help."

You nod at Alfred and then help him swing his feet out of the cot and stand up. You help him into his white long sleeved shirt, then you take the blue ribbon out of his navy coat pocket. You place it over his head and onto his (your) left shoulder.

He sends you a small and shy smile before putting on the navy coat himself. You can clearly tell that he is over his bullet wound.

You take a step back and examine his uniform. It was almost identical to yours. Despite the pretty blue ribbon.

You remember when you first found this man out in the forest he was weak and vulnerable. But after some medical treatment and rest, here he stood tall in front of you. If you didn't know him you would definitely be intimidated.

You let a grin creep across your face, still amazed at how quickly he can change attitude.

Alfred blinks at you and nods before walking out of the tent, ducking underneath the cloth entrance.

You watch him go, and then you realize that you have a question for him. You make a mad dash out of the medicine, dodging past all the soldiers and surprised cries of "why aren't you in the tent!"

You finally catch sight of Alfred getting ready to climb onto the back of the horse. Your heavy boots thud along with your feet as you walk up to him.

He hears your heavy pants and turns around, surprise in his eyes, "_!"

"Why didn't you send me home?" you demand.

Alfred raised his eyebrows, but didn't reply.

"Why didn't you send me home?" you repeat angrily.

And wordlessly, America climbed onto the back of a large black quarter horse

"Onward, men!" Alfred bellows, and the hooves of his horse thunder away, followed by a large fleet of army men.

As you stand there looking dumbfounded, a drop falls on your head. Warily, you reach up your hand and feel the spot where you were hit. Water. Looking up at the sky you see that gray clouds had gathered, and that rain was staring to drip down around you.

Glancing around yourself and notice 3 men carrying flags towards the back of the fleet.

"God forgive me," you mutter, whipping a pistol out of a holder you had fastened to your belt. You cautiously waited until the men passed by before you CLUNKED the nearest one to you on the head. As soon as he fell to the ground, in one swift movement, your hand wipes across the ground collecting fresh mud. You quickly use it to slick back your hair and to disguise it's color.

You pick up the flag from where it was laying on the ground and hold it up as the man was before. You march on after Alfred. You weren't going to let him get himself killed.


	5. Chapter 5

AmericaXReader  
>It's Revolutionary!<br>A Story Written by Dezie

Part 5

Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia or you... Mother Russia does

You had been following the fleet of soldiers for quite some time now, and you're beginning to grow tired. Plus you're convinced that carrying the large flag wasn't helping one bit. You begin to stumble around and you almost couldn't feel your arms...

The rain was still falling, and your muddy hair was getting completely soaked. Some strands had gotten loose and were hanging in front of your face, dripping rain water.

Losing your footing for a fraction of a second, you almost stumbled over. You hadn't actually had a decent night's sleep in a few days...

Almost falling again, you're about to throw down the flag and hike back to camp, before the fleet suddenly comes to an abrupt halt.

Completely distracted, you run straight into the solider in front of you's back. You feel your nose crush in between his shoulder blades, and you take a step back in surprise.

And before you can help it then a small gasp escapes your mouth, and it sounds more feminine than it should. The man in front of you goes stiff and he turns around to stare at you with wide, condemning brown eyes that were slightly covered by his shaggy blonde-ish hair.

"You..." he stutters, he apparently didn't have anything to say.

"Please don't call attention," you beg, "please. I just want to make sure that Alfred will be alright."

The man raises his eyebrows, and a small smile creeps across his face.

"You're the nurse. If we didn't have you then I wouldn't have survived my wound."

You raise your eyebrows, "name?" you ask. You remembered all your patients.

"Texas," the man says, turning back a bit to shake your free hand, for your other one was holding tight to the flag pole that was now stabbed into the muddy ground.

"Texas?" the name sounds familiar, "Austin!"

The smile on his face widens and you grin back. Usually you would throw your arms around this man. He was very sweet and patient with you when you were tending to his wound, not to mention he was also kinda cute.

But this would NOT be a good situation to do that. It was just until you remembered Alfred.

"Where is Commander Jones?" you asked Austin worriedly, you needed to talk to him.

"Up at the front of the fleet," Austin answered, looking around all the other heads blocking his and your view. You tried to count the amount of heads around you, and you came up with the number 50. That confused you... Why would Alfred JUST send 50 up against the British army of who knows how many?

Austin, still holding his gun tight in his hands, bent his back down a bit, offering you a boost. You muttered your thanks and twisted the flag pole into the muddy ground that you stood upon so that it would stay held up.

In one swift motion, you hopped onto Austin's back, wrapping your legs around his torso to get a boost almost high enough to catch sight of Alfred's blonde hair.

The soldiers around you began to slowly turn their head toward you, watching with completely confused eyes. You glare at every single one until they turn away, and you are thankful that nobody called you to attention.

Peeping over the men's heads, you can see Alfred,still on his horse, talking to the General. Alfred appeared to be very calm, and you squint your eyes at him. It appeared that he was waiting for something... Or someone...?

From the look of it, he was staring ahead into nothing. You raised an eyebrow.

"What's going on?" You ask Austin quietly.

"We're waiting for the British I suppose," Austin answered simply, and you nod... Biting your bottom lip. You were still worried about Alfred. "Do you know how many?"

"Nope. The Commander wouldn't tell." Austin replied.

"I see..." you murmur. "I guess we'll just have to wait."

And wait is exactly what you did. Your legs began to get tired as you and whole entire fleet of soldiers stood there for who knows how long? You felt yourself begin to slip backwards and your eyelids beginning to drop. You felt yourself get lightheaded as you leaned backwards, only to be jolted awake by a rustle throughout the fleet. You scrambled up and locked your ankles together, your boots squeaking extremely loud in the process.

People began to turn around and stare again.

You hissed at them, and they looked offended as they turned back away. You smiled smugly to yourself before you strained up your neck to see what you had missed.

You gasp to yourself as you see in the distance a redcoat approaching the fleet and Alfred... all alone. From what you can see from a distance is a head of blonde hair as the man approached. You're eyes trailed to Alfred as his movement caught your eye. He had gotten down from his horse, and he turned to the Captain for his gun and bayonet.

The redcoat still approached, staggering as he was walking and you could tell that from the way he stumbled about he had been through a lot. And you were particularly freaked out by his enormously, bushy eyebrows which you could see from where you were.

Everyone tensed around you and you were confused, especially when Austin's muscles tensed below you and he cursed under his breath.

"What's wrong?" You asked Austin under your breath as you put your chin onto his shoulder, "Who is that?"

"That is Arthur Kirkland," the man answered, spitting out the name as if it was a disease.

"How do you know him?" You wondered out-loud. Austin slightly turned his head slightly so that his right eye could look into yours. "Everyone here knows Arthur. He is the one who refuses to give us our independence."

"Us?" You ask curiously. Could Arthur possibly be England like Alfred was America?

"The United States," Austin answers simply. You don't ask anymore. This is all way too weird for you.

But what you do is tighten your grip on Austin as this Arthur is decently close to the fleet and Alfred.

"And so here we are, America," Arthur screams at Alfred, his voice very hoarse, you could just barely hear it. At the mention of him being America you flinch, but you notice that no one else does, not even Austin. It seemed that they were all in it together.

"Britain," You hear Alfred greet, coldness contained in the single word. Never before had you heard him speak in such a tone.

You strain your neck again, impatient to see what will happen.

"All I want is my freedom, Britian," Alfred says clear and loudly for all to hear, "I am no longer a child, nor your little brother. From now on, consider me INDEPENDENT."

And you believe him.

The way that America says the words, you feel your heart soar, as if a heavy weight had been taken off of your heart. You immediately relax, and you feel Austin relax too.

One by one, everyone around you is relaxing. Your independence has been declared.

You are free.


	6. Chapter 6

AmericaXReader  
>It's Revolutionary!<br>A Story Written by Dezie

Part 6

Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia or you... Mother Russia does

You felt your heart soaring like an eagle's wings as soon as Alfred has declared your freedom. You just wanted to leap off of Austin's back and run to hug Alfred out of gratitude.

Although it's what you really wanted to do, you heard Arthur scream, "NO! I won't allow it!"

Everybody around you tenses up again, and you saw that Austin had clenched his rifle tightly in his hands. You tightened your hold on Austin's neck. Your ears perking up as you hear Alfred chuckle softly to himself.

"I've already declared my states free!" Alfred replied to Arthur, "we are held together by life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness! The Declaration of Independence has gone into effect, Britain! Every single man and woman here will die trying to keep our independence, even if it means murdering you. You have lost, Britain! We ARE AMERICA!"

Arthur flinched at Alfred's words, but he still stood his ground firmly. You bit your bottom lip nervously. All was silent except the still pitter patter of the rain that dripped from the gray skies above. The falling water drops fell onto your face as you glanced up momentarily, your hair clinging to your face.

You look back down into Arthur's eyes as his are focused on Alfred's. Suddenly, he lets out a sharp wail and he charges towards Alfred, his gun pointed straight for Alfred's chest. You almost let out a scream of your own, but someone behind you covers your mouth with a gloved hand.

"SH!' A feminine voice hisses behind you, "stay quiet!"

You are about to bite this person's hand before you hear a sound that is similar to a knife on a chalkboard. Everybody around you shudders at the sound, and when you look up then you see Alfred's gun go flying in the air.

The hand drops from your mouth as soon as you hear the General's voice, "Ready? AIM!"

Austin's reflexes go out from underneath you, and you collapse to the ground behind him, getting absolutely splattered with mud. You already have enough of it in your hair, but you were not planning to put anymore into it. It's then when you remember the women's voice and you look up, horrified when you see the man standing before you, his gun pointing past Austin's head, apparently aiming for Arthur.

His crisp clean uniform makes you gasp in awe, right up to his flawless cheekbones and long, natural eyelashes. You had never seen a more beautiful man in all of your life.

It's then when you remember Alfred and you scramble up onto your feet, only to be knocked back onto your rear as your rubber boots slip in the mud underneath you. You quickly get onto your knees and try to look past everybody's legs and knees to see what the heck is going on.

The phrase 'Is Alfred okay?" races through your mind over and over again as you stand up. Shakily you manage to get back onto your 2 feet and you stand on your tippy-toes to see what is going on and your eyes widen as you look upon the scene before you.

Arthur has collapsed onto his knees before Alfred and he is sobbing onto his hands, his gun lying next to him, buried in the mud. Alfred takes a step forward towards Arthur and he puts his hand onto the older one's shoulder, quickly removing it when Arthur flinches, hissing the words, "Don't touch me."

"Britain…" Alfred whispers to him gently, "I think it's about time that you go home."

Arthur nods sadly and steadily stands up, but not before he reaches down to get his rifle. He pathetically shakes the mud from it. He turns, only looking back once at Alfred before turning and walking back the way he came steadily, nobody around you moving even an inch as he takes each step, and you only see Alfred flinching as the older man's boots squeak.

It has seemed like forever when Arthur finally disappears from view, and it's then when everybody around you relaxes. The atmosphere around you settles down to uncertainty when Alfred doesn't turn around to face the fleet and confirm victory, and when he does the sad look on his face keeps everybody around you silent.

It's only when his lips turn up into a small smile when everybody around you cheers, and you gasp as you notice that along with male voices there are some females screams as well. You turn around to look at the one who had covered your mouth earlier and you found that his helmet had been taken off to reveal long cascading hair and it's when you realize that it was indeed a woman! You were never the only one! Is that why Alfred didn't send you home?

You turn and tug on Austin's shirt and when he turns and looks at you quizzically you point to the woman.

"That's Cheyenne Wyoming," Austin tells you as she joins the large crowd of people suddenly surrounding Alfred. You nod at him with a smile on your face, and you begin to think about everything that Alfred, America, has done for you.

'Finally I can go home!' You think to yourself oh so happily, 'I can go home and see Ma and Pa! Everybody back home will welcome me back a hero! I'm so excited!'

You tip your head back to cheer along with the large fleet of army men and WOmen. You are so happy that you can just go and throw your arms around Alfred and-

but then the realization comes crashing on you.

After all of this is over... where does it leave you and Alfred?

It's now when you turn and see a woman with short black hair wrap her arms around Alfred and kiss him on the cheek, throwing him a bit off guard.

You let out a small sigh and then you laugh half-heartily to yourself.

"He'll be quite alright," you reassure yourself, but you can't help but feel something stir inside of you that you've never felt before...


	7. Chapter 7

AmericaXReader  
>It's Revolutionary!<br>A Story Written by Dezie

Part 7 FINAL

Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia or you... Mother Russia does

You sigh to yourself and put your guy clothes into your old knapsack that you've had since you couldn't remember. You had snuck away after the earlier... The fact that all the soldiers, man and woman, were very close friends with each other. They had all crowded around Alfred and so you felt as if you didn't belong.

So you had escaped into the shelter of the camp and medicine camp to begin your packing when you go back home. Soon, the whole camp will be flooded with cheer, whoops, and hollers as everybody learns of America's new-found freedom.

You had pulled out your knapsack, set it onto the cot that Alfred rested upon, and began to fill it back up with your belongings. You were taking the next ride back to Virginia and the thought of seeing your family again makes you smile.

You were so preoccupied by your very own mind that you didn't hear the tent swish open as your Commander in Chief walks in. You only realize that you are in his presence when he drops something and he cusses silently to himself.

You turn around to face him and you smile at him as he reaches down to pick up a box of match that he has. You roll your eyes at him and laugh. He looks back up at at you and grins back, all seriousness gone from his face, but when you look into his eyes then you can see that there is something wrong.

"Alfred?" You ask curiously, sitting onto the cot and patting a seat next to you invitingly, "What's wrong?"

He sits down awkwardly and turns to look at you, his eyes glazed over with something you've never seen before.

You blink at him and reach up with your hand to ruffle his hair, trying to lighten the heavy mood around you. He only lets his lips twitch into a grin and you let out a frustrated sigh.

"Al-"

You can't finish your sentence because he has thrown his arms around you in a tight bear hug, burying his face into your shoulder.

"Thank you," He whispers, crushing your bones as he holds you tighter.

You laugh lightly to yourself, and eventually he lets go. You hate to admit it but when he did then you felt a bit empty...

"Do you have a place to stay?" Alfred asks, sounding very worried.

"Alfred... I'm going home to Virginia," You tell him, "I have my family back there. Where are you going?"

Alfred lets out a sigh and he runs a hand through his hair, "I'm going back to New York."

You smile at him and nod, "I'm happy for you, Alfred. But i'm sad that we have to part and go our separate ways..."

He chews on the inside of his cheek, "It was nice meeting you, _" And he reaches his hand out to take yours.

You nod at him and put your hand into his, expecting him to shake it. But he kisses the top of your hand softly and you feel your blood heat up.

"Nice meeting you too," You say weakly.

He gets up and leaves... but not before glancing back your way and shooting you a sly smile.

You raise your eyebrows at him and he laughs.

"I'll never be away, _" He informs you, "You DO live on me you know."

You close your eyes and laugh to yourself, "All of this country stuff is driving me crazy. That Arthur... he really was England?"

Alfred closes his eyes, as if he was reflecting on something. Before he opens them back up, there is no sorrow, just humor.

"Yes, that was England. And do you remember that Francis Bonnefoy?"

You purse your lips and nod your head slowly. You had never taken particular liking to that man...

"That was France," Alfred laughed out loud, and you flinched. That man helped you out back on the battlefield. You remembered that he was very touchy feely with you... even though you were dressed as a man...

"Is he... gay?" You ask Alfred curiously who just throws his head back and laughs.

"No, he just wants to have sex with everything he thinks is beautiful!"

You flinch again.

Alfred laughs one more time before turning to exit the tent. He only glances back one last time and smiles at you, his blue eyes shining.

"I'll never forget you, _" He tells you. "If you're ever feeling lonely or rebellious. You should pay me a visit someday."

You roll your eyes and laugh, "And in return you can visit me when I'm on my deathbed."

Alfred strolls back across the tent and he touches your face softly with his hand.

"It's a date," He says sadly, and with that he turns and walks out of the tent. Its then when you hear the gunshot signaling that there was a ride ready to take somebody home. You stand up and wrap your knapsack around your shoulder. You bolt out of the tent and jump into the army truck, ready to ditch this joint. You inform the driver of your location and he nods, putting a cigar into his mouth.

Your heart is jumping for joy, and your mind is running with thoughts.

Although you are in a hurry to get home, but not in a hurry to let Alfred escape from your heart.


End file.
